Abaddon
by solitaryloner
Summary: Foolish people do foolish things - that saying has never been more true for Miku Hatsune. In a desperate bid for revenge, she turned away from the goddess Hecate, placing her faith in Hell. Hell sent help in the form of Abaddon, a powerful demon in the guise of a handsome boy, and the worst part is that she has negligible control over the summoned demon. May Hecate help her. LenKu.
1. Chapter 1

_**Solitaryloner: **Okay, so a lot of people have been asking me to turn this one shot from my one shot/drabble series into a full-length multi-chapter story. I'll do just that, but the very first chapter will be basically copy-and-pasted since I have to start from somewhere. The second chapter will be new stuff. Until then, I'll just sort of...leave this here. No promises about update speed - I'm only doing this because really, quite a number of people have requested that this be continued...__  
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_It's a dark art – shouldn't be practiced. It's illegal, you know, to summon a demon._

She was desperate. And desperate people did stupid things.

At this point she didn't _care _what sort of creature she summoned from the depths of Hell – she just needed something, _anything_, to grant her wishes. She wouldn't have done this if Hecate hadn't ignored her – but _no, _clearly Hecate was busy with other matters. Too busy to bother herself with the affairs of one of her precious few, like what she called them…her lips curled into a derisive smirk. _Then I will take matters into my own hands. _She glanced at the rune drawn hastily in the dirt, the burning flames…

She was reminded of what she had seen just two nights ago, and she flinched, suppressing the urge to blow the burning candles out. The wax of the candles dripped slowly down the sides, melting into a pale yellow pool of tallow on the ground. She stared up at the moon, not that there was any sign of it tonight. It was a new moon, the best time to summon such a creature…she shuddered at the very thought.

If Meiko found out, she would kill her. Meiko would never allow – _never allow _– her to do something so reckless, so stupid. She and her husband, Kaito Shion, both cared for her like she was their own. She would have loved to call them her own, especially after that incident – they were her aunt and uncle, after all – but she was too old for her to forget about her parents. Her teeth gritted. She had to stop hesitating. If she did, the summoning hour would pass, and she would have to wait another month for the new moon to come. No, she wanted her wishes and desires granted now, _now._

She stepped forward into the protective circle she had cast, her eyes darting warily from side to side, careful that no one would sneak up on her and realise what she was doing. If she was found out, the consequences would be…dire, to say the least. Hecate herself would be most offended by this act of defilement – but she had no choice. She had to seek revenge, and she couldn't think of any other way to do so. This was a last resort.

She wondered who would come. She wasn't exceptionally powerful, and she didn't really expect much – she hadn't tried to summon something too strong, because she knew she wouldn't be able to control them. A minor one, perhaps. Perhaps Agares, or Kasdeya. Haures maybe, for poetic justice? At this point, even Ukopach would be sufficient for her – so long as they were capable of helping her in her objectives…

She started the spell, closing her eyes as she cupped black onyx in her hands, raising it up to the sky. Her lips moved in a chant, a slow chant she had practiced quietly to herself throughout the whole of yesterday – even now, she could feel the wrongness of the words as they left her, almost like snakes slithering out of her mouth. She tried not to think of the fact that this was wrong and immoral – she couldn't let herself hesitate, because the moment she stumbled over her words, she would ruin the whole spell.

Then all this would have been for nought. She steeled herself, forcing herself to think of other objectives – revenge for the wrong which had been done to her. She knew who was the perpetrator – she just had to hunt them down. And using this, she would be able to do so…she cared not for the consequences upon her head for using a banned ritual, because she had little left to live for anyway. Everything she had prized and treasured was taken from her two nights ago. And _no one _involved had deserved any of it.

Thunder rumbled, and she almost paused – she caught herself in time and carried on with the sinful words, almost able to see them wrap around her, the darkness of their essence practically tangible. There was pure evil in the air now, and she shuddered again, not liking where this was going. She gripped the onyx tighter. It seemed to warm at her touch, and she took assurance from that, though she knew it was still wrong.

The flames of the candles marking out her protective circle flickered, and she jumped, feeling a little on edge. The flames came back to life, and she watched them, feeling wary. There was no wind…thunder rumbled again, long and low, and she gripped the onyx so tightly that she felt her fingers were going to break. She turned slowly, greeting the four different directions as she was supposed to – East, South, West then North. She called for their power for help in this ritual, and she felt them respond, though rather unwillingly – because like her, the four power points knew this was forbidden.

It was a forbidden rite, explicitly banned by Hecate herself, and for good reason.

Suddenly, a strong wind blew in from the North – _the North Wind, the coldest and harshest wind of them all _– and the candle flames were extinguished. She was thrown into absolute, complete darkness. _But at least I've already finished the chant…_her lips itched to move again, but there wouldn't be any point now that the candle flames were gone. The circle was broken. She looked around her, her eyes adjusting to the dark.

_Did the spell…not work? _Despite having finished the chant, it didn't seem like anything had happened…thunder boomed again, the third time since she started on her ritual. She shivered in the North Wind – it was freezing her in her thin nightdress. _It probably didn't work…_she most likely didn't have the power to summon even something minor, from the upper floors of Hell. She let out a sigh – well, that wasn't too surprising. She had been expecting this outcome anyway, sort of. She was too young to know better…

She swallowed the bitter feeling of disappointment rising in her throat. Then she would simply have to think of something better, a more viable solution. It was silly anyway. Maybe, if she had patience, she would be able to come up with an idea that wouldn't involve the breaking of any laws…she turned, stepping out of the protective circle. Perhaps she should just clean up now and go back home. _Meiko will be worried…_

Meiko and Kaito were always looking out for her, especially now. She was already eighteen, and considered a legal adult, but they still thought of her as no more than a child. She supposed they had sufficient reason to see her that way, since she was so thoughtless and reckless in her actions – what she just tried to do proved that.

_Then Meiko will scold Kaito for putting this idea in my head again…_she giggled at the thought of that. Her aunt and uncle shared a strange relationship, and she couldn't quite wrap her head around the way they showed their affections for each other, but she knew that they loved each other truly. It made her feel happy, seeing them like that – but ever since she lost everything she had, even Kaito and Meiko couldn't make her smile, not the way she used to. She had grown numb to anything other than pain.

She glanced down at the dirt ground, wondering whether she should scuff the protective circle out first. She didn't want Meiko to check here in the morning and realise she had been up to something – the circle was more than enough evidence to indicate that she had been up to some midnight witchery. Pursing her lips, she used the tip of her boot to rub out the chalk line drawn into the ground – and she felt a chill run down her spine.

Nervously, she glanced around, into the darkness, squinting her eyes to try and make out if anything was hiding in the depths of the gloom. Nothing moved, nothing to indicate that there was anything here other than her and her own torments, and she let out a sigh of relief. _Nothing but my own paranoia…_she moved out of the circle, crouching down to pick the candles up from the ground. She made a mental note to clean up the wax pools left behind. They had solidified into a white mass, which made the job a little easier. She hated scraping wax off the ground. It was icky and most troublesome.

Her nose wrinkled as she thought she smelled the scent of…something. She couldn't quite put a name to it. There was something almost like cinnamon, yet underneath it was mint, and under _that _there was just the faintest smell of something burning…she froze, her heart in her throat. _Burning. Fire. _Her mind raced back to two nights ago, and the fire, and everything – the flames swallowing it all up like a hungry beast – she pushed that aside, closing her eyes. No, that was past. This was…something else…

Then the smell was gone, and she wondered if she had just imagined it. Perhaps someone was baking cinnamon cupcakes again, and had left them in the oven for too long. She decided not to think about it too much. She had other things to scheme about – like how she ought to proceed, now that her only plan had been proved a failure. She couldn't rely on anyone else, or on any spells. She had to think of something _herself._

She turned, the candles in her arms – and then, standing completely motionless, the candles collapsed from her arms, clattering soundlessly on the ground. For there, right in front of her, leaning against the open door of the stable, was a man. She could not quite make out his features, but she knew from his frame and his height that it was a human, and it was not a woman. The lack of moonlight made it difficult for her to believe that he was truly there – for how could anyone have sneaked up on her so quickly? Just seconds ago, there hadn't been anyone there…she was certain of that.

He seemed to glance up at her as the candles fell, and she stood rooted to the spot, her mouth agape as she stared blankly at him. He pushed himself away from the wall, and he slowly approached her – she found she was incapable of moving away, and could only watch as he got closer and closer. As he did that, the strange smell wafted over to her – the smell of cinnamon and mint and flames…she flinched. _It came from him?_

As he got closer, she could make out his face, and her eyes widened. It wasn't a man – it was a _boy, _clearly no older than she was. In the darkness of the stable, she could not see very much, but she could see enough to know that he was young, obviously no more than eighteen. His eyes seemed black in the darkness. There was a certain hardness to his expression, however, that made him look like he was older than what his face would lead one to believe. His hair, too, looked dark in the stable – a shade of brown, perhaps?

Without a word, he reached out – she found she still could not move – and then his finger pressed itself gently against her arm. His finger was cold, as cold as death – but suddenly, she could see him, as though light was flooding into the stable. She gasped – his eyes weren't black, they were the most startling shade of crystalline blue, like twin shards of ice. And his hair was blond, a darkish blond, tied up into a small ponytail. Tendrils had escaped from the ponytail, framing his face – and he had a handsome face, she could grant this stranger. Meiko would have claimed that he looked angelic.

But all she could think was that he was a stranger, and he shouldn't _be _here, especially not without her noticing. She finally found the strength to pull back from him – she couldn't get the image of that hard, blank expression out of her mind – and she gaped at him, her vision suddenly being thrown back into darkness. "Who…who are you?" she managed to say, her voice shaking. She straightened her back and tried to calm herself.

"You ask?" his voice, much like his eyes, reminded her of clear, cold crystal. It was anything but calming, despite the evenness of his tone – it unnerved her, because there was a ring of authority and power to his voice that seemed far beyond that of an eighteen-year-old. "You are the one who was carrying out the summoning ritual, are you not?" he seemed to glance down at the candles, scattered on a heap on the dirt floor. Her gaze followed his, and she stared at the fallen candles, her mind racing – _wait, does this mean that…_she glanced up at him again, not wanting, or daring to believe this.

"I…I am," she admitted carefully, not wanting to get herself into anything if it didn't involve her. His expression didn't change at her confirmation – she knew it did not change, though she could not see his face clearly. Somehow, she just knew that there was no change in his face – could this boy even feel emotions, given his icy cold demeanour? She was not entirely sure of that, and suspected that he was…_I couldn't have. But if he is in human form – if he isn't like anything I had read about – if he…_

"Then what is your wish? Tell me, and I will give it to you," his words were icy cold, but they burnt like the darkest flame. She shuddered, suddenly regretting her actions – _so I did…I did…_with a gasp, she glanced down at the candles again, then at the circle she had scuffed out. It was still largely intact, and she hastened to step back inside it – _if he really is one of them, I need to stay in the protective circle until we have sorted out the deal –_

Before she could move, he was holding her arm, and his grip was like _iron_. She couldn't move a single inch, and she struggled not to cry out as she felt his fingers sinking into her skin. He was going to leave a bruise, she was sure. "Listen to me, witch," his voice had changed, becoming something more like a snarl. Something dark and menacing, low and guttural…something that sounded anything but human. "You are the one who summoned me, but I come here on my own rules. And trust me," his voice now dripped with scorn, "even with your protection circle, you won't be able to control me."

"Who are you?" she repeated herself, her heart in her throat. His grip was so tight that she thought her arm might fall off there and then, and she wouldn't even feel it. She was regretting everything she had done now – she hadn't fully believed that she had the ability to summon one of the Hell demons, but it seemed that she had.

And not only had she summoned a demon, but she had also summoned a powerful one. Only the strong ones could disguise themselves like this – only the strong ones could make themselves appear human. She had been expecting something more like a spirit familiar, but she had not expected this…and she couldn't control him, or so it seemed. _No, there has to be a degree of control! I am the one who summoned him, surely…_

"Me? My demon name is..." he paused, as though it had been a long time since he last used the name, and he was now trying to recall it. "My name is Abaddon," he finally said, and her eyes widened – _Abaddon. Abaddon the Destroyer. One of the most powerful beings in Hell…_ "And it seems that you, Miku Hatsune, invoked one of my brethren so that we may grant you a wish," his lips curled up into a smile. It was not a kind smile. Since he was touching her again, she could see him clear as day, and she didn't like the look on his face. "I am here, and I am content to listen to your heart's desire."

"Let me go!" she tried to yank her arm away, but he wouldn't listen to her, his grip remaining tight around her. Her heart in her throat, she considered her options – she could try to cast an offensive spell to make him let go, but given that he was a demon of such strength, she doubted that her spell would have any effect upon him. And she was too drained to even consider a banishing spell – not that it would affect him anyway, she thought. _I didn't mean…I just wanted one of the lesser servants of Hell, not something like him…_her eyes drifted to his face. He was just watching her, his eyes narrowing.

He had a handsome face, but she was aware that this was nothing more than a human skin, and was definitely not the demon's true appearance. She swallowed, wishing she could just leave – wishing this was some horrible nightmare. She could feel the aura of darkness surrounding Abaddon, and she hated it – he reeked of pure death and sin. He reeked of Hell and fire and misery, and she was starting to regret using the ritual.

"What do you want?" he said again, this time in a more impatient tone of voice. His voice had gotten lower, and she was sure that if she did not speak up soon, his demonic voice would come out – and she didn't want to hear that guttural, animalistic tone again. She swallowed, knowing that this was a bad idea – but it was what she had set out to do in the first place, and she might as well go through with the plan. Abaddon or not, it did not matter – she just needed a demon capable of granting her desire, and she got one.

"I want you to help me drag the people who murdered my parents and slaughtered my entire village to the darkest depths of Hell," she whispered. "That's what I want from you, Abaddon. I don't mind paying the price, I just want the killers to be caught, and I want them to die a death worse than my parents'," as she spoke, tears stung her eyes, and she looked away from the demon, not wanting him to see her cry. She had never liked crying, especially not in front of others…especially not in front of strangers.

_If I was stronger, like Meiko or Kaito…if I was older and more experienced like them, I would be able to do this by myself. But Kaito and Meiko keep telling me to leave this matter alone. They keep telling me not to exact revenge. But if I don't…_no, she had to have her revenge. There was no such thing as karma or justice. _She _was justice, and she had to mete it out herself. There was no one else watching out for her. Hecate had abandoned her – the Witch Mother had ignored all her pleas for help or solace.

She couldn't place her trust in Hecate any longer, so she turned to the other side. She turned to Hell. And Hell had extended a willing hand. She had no other options – the other races didn't want to associate themselves with witches like her. They all thought witches were bad luck. The elves avoided her, the dwarves refused to speak to her, and the faeries…_let's not think about the faeries. _Her species, which was that of witches, was spurned by every other magical race in existence – other than the demons. Because Hell would accept anyone or anything so long as they were willing to pay the dearest price.

Abaddon raised an eyebrow at this request. He was not unused to hearing about wishes for death and revenge – it was just the first time someone so _young _had wished for those things. It was very odd, and in all his long years of existence, this was the first time he had encountered someone so young and so vengeful. He could feel the need, the fire and passion of her urges, through just that simple touch. He knew everything about her.

He knew about her history, about her family, about her hopes and dreams – he knew everything he had to know about her, and cared little for anything else that was not absolutely necessary. When he felt someone summoning a demon from the depths of Hell, his first instinct had been to ignore the summons – it was weak and not very focused, and was clearly the act of someone inexperienced and desperate. There would not be any good sustenance for him, and he could hardly be bothered – _let one of the lesser demons answer to the call. It is a general one anyway, not anything specific._

But the call had not stopped, and no one had taken up on it. Which was strange, because the only time a demon could leave Hell was when they were summoned. And the frequency of summoning had dropped since witches were the only ones who could invoke his kind, and ever since their damned goddess Hecate passed that law about summoning rituals being forbidden, his chances of getting out had fallen to near zero.

Not that he particularly minded, since he was rather comfortable in Hell. He didn't mind staying there, especially since as a Greater Demon he was given special privileges that the Lesser Demons…lacked. It came with being one of the most powerful entities in the realms belowground. But the call hadn't stopped, and curiosity had piqued him – finally, he had succumbed to the call, and allowed himself to depart for the mortal world.

Then he stumbled across this witch. True to his suspicions, she was indeed young and desperate – but the burning need for revenge he could see in her eyes, feel in her words, was something that did not usually come to someone of her age. It made him think that he had not made a bad decision in deciding to leave the comforts of Hell. "That is a simple enough request," he said in response, the words automatic. "You do know, however, that you will need to pay a heavy price for the services of a demon?"

_Of course, her soul. _She was probably aware of that. There was nothing else a demon would accept – demons did not strictly need souls for sustenance, but when they did come across one, it was such a sweet, sweet treat – he had not had a soul in centuries, and he was starving. Abaddon watched her closely – her soul flickered within her, and it burnt brightly with the flame of her passion. He knew she would make a delicious dessert, and it made him salivate. _This will be a very quick job, so I'll get to enjoy…_

There was just the briefest of hesitations, and then she nodded. He smiled, then pulled her forward to him – he leant down, his gaze meeting her startled green eyes. Without any ceremony, he slid his hand behind her head, pressing her forward so that his lips covered hers – as he did that, he bit down hard on her lower lip, and he heard her gasp in pain. His grip on the back of her head tightened, preventing her from moving away.

The sweet, metallic tang of blood hit his tongue, and he parted his lips, allowing her blood to flow in. It was a deal, a seal, a contract of blood and promise – once he had ingested her blood, he would carry out his end of the bargain, and she would fulfil her agreement as well. There was a certain sweetness to her blood that he had not experienced before, not with other people – not even with other women. Abaddon had kissed men to seal contracts before, but that was not his preference, of course.

Perhaps it was not her blood, but rather the taste of her lips…he sighed into her mouth, and he felt her shiver against him. He let go, and she instantly jerked away, holding her hand up to her bleeding lip. He smiled at her – he knew red was staining his mouth, like he had just eaten some fresh strawberries… "You have the sweetest taste I've ever experienced," he told her truthfully. She visibly flinched at his words, and his smile just widened – she was such a young master, and it amused him greatly to see her this way.

"Miku? Miku!" suddenly, Abaddon heard the sound of a man's voice, calling out for his newest mistress. The girl, Miku Hatsune, froze at the sound of the voice – it was clearly one she was familiar with. Her head whipped around, her hair flying with the motion – it nearly hit his face, and he scowled at that. A few locks had brushed across his skin, and it was surprisingly soft. Then again, what would he know of humans and their hair? He had never had any need to touch the hair – or any part, for that matter – of a mortal.

"Kaito," she said urgently, sounding panicked. Abaddon simply raised an eyebrow at her, folding his arms across his chest – he hated being in this human form, but his body automatically transformed into the shell of a mortal the moment he went to the mortal plane. It was a self-protective mechanism, to prevent people from recognising him as a Greater Demon of Hell – there was no need for the magical races to file a petition against Satan and demand that he seal his more dangerous servants in the fiery depths.

He assumed that Kaito was someone familiar, and perhaps even dear to the girl in front of him. His eyes narrowed – well, this was interesting. He wiped idly at his blood-stained mouth with the back of his hand – when he heard footsteps approaching the stable, he grabbed Miku and dragged her back to him. This time, the kiss involved no biting, and she just stood there limp in his arms, completely powerless against him. Abaddon knew this would make for a most interesting show, and he waited.

A part of him noted that she had soft lips, and kissing her could almost be something other than a chore – but he pushed that aside. He only let go when he heard the sound of a man spluttering – instantly, he glanced up, to see a tall, navy haired man gaping at the two of them, his eyes widening in shock. "Miku! Who…is this boy?" the man demanded. _A father figure, I suppose. Kaito Shion…oh, yes. That's her uncle, isn't it?_

"Uncle…" Miku stammered, now that she finally could speak. "It's not what it seems – uh, I'm serious! We're not – oh, please don't tell Meiko," she let out a groan, and Abaddon glanced at her. Meiko was her aunt, if he was not mistaken. And he never was.

"Good evening, Mr Shion," Abaddon turned and smiled charmingly at the still-stunned man. "I happen to be your niece's boyfriend," his smile widened slightly at the words, completely ignoring the way his new mistress was shaking him, silently imploring him to stop. "It's nice to finally meet you. My name is Len Kagamine."


	2. Chapter 2

"A while, yes," Abaddon smiled charmingly, placing his hands together on his lap. He was playing the part of a perfect gentleman a little too well, and Miku didn't quite know what to do. She was seated opposite Abaddon, and she couldn't stop fidgeting.

Her aunt and uncle were busy interrogating her apparent boyfriend, clearly incredulous about his origins and his sudden appearance in their stables. The demon Abaddon – or Len Kagamine, the name he gave to Meiko and Kaito – fielded all their questions perfectly. He was able to account for every single thing she ever did in her past. That honestly unnerved her a little – _he knows everything about me without even trying…_

"Then, Miku, why didn't you tell us about him?" Meiko now turned to her, her brown eyes narrowing slightly in her niece's direction. Miku smiled weakly, unsure about how to answer this question – because technically, Abaddon was _not _her boyfriend. She had no idea what the demon was thinking, and had been shooting him questioning glares the whole night…glares which he was plainly ignoring. She wanted to scream at him.

"Well, I didn't really see a need to do so?" she finally said, that being the only excuse she could come up with. She didn't need to look at Abaddon to know that he just sighed in exasperation at her. Even she thought that her excuse was stupid, and it was obvious from the look on Meiko's face that her aunt thought so as well. But what more could she say? Abaddon claimed that they had been in a relationship for 'a while', and that wasn't exactly specific. How long could 'a while' be? Anywhere between a month to a year!

"She was just shy," Abaddon interjected smoothly, leaning forward earnestly in his chair so that all eyes would turn to him instead of Miku. She let out a quiet sigh of relief, not wanting to deal with this at the moment – the demon was the one who had gotten them into this, and he would be the one to get them out. They were in the kitchen, and the light of the lamps dangling from the ceiling provided a much better illumination than what was offered in the stables – she took the chance to stare at Abaddon again.

She really could not deny that the demon's human appearance was breath-taking. He was gorgeous, his beauty bordering on angelic – with that feathery golden hair and clear, guileless cerulean eyes…he looked anything but what he truly was. And his face, his features – Hecate, but he was handsome, and any girl would wish to have him as a boyfriend. Well, other than the fact that he was a demon in the guise of a human.

"Shy about what?" Kaito dropped his spoon – as typical of her dessert loving uncle, he was eating some cake again, despite the late hour. "Don't tell me you two…" his face paled and he didn't finish his sentence, turning to exchange a dark look with his wife. It took Miku a while to understand what he was thinking, but when she figured it out, she immediately flushed, pushing herself away from the table and rising from her chair.

"No! How could you possibly think that way, Uncle?" she spluttered, ignoring the look of bewilderment on Abaddon's face. She wondered if the demon was just pretending that he did not understand. "I'm...I would never…" she couldn't stop stammering, the words refusing to come out. How could she explain herself to him – how did Kaito even arrive at such a conjecture? Her navy haired uncle simply looked on at her in amazement.

"You know Miku, even if you really have done so, there is no shame. You are an adult now, and I understand that you might have, ah, needs," Meiko said tactfully, clearly trying to hide a smirk behind her hand. Miku didn't know how to respond, and Abaddon suddenly got a look of enlightenment, as though he finally got what all the fuss was about. "You really don't have to get so worked up about it. Though, if that's the case, when are you two getting married?" Meiko asked, placing her hand down.

There was a stunned silence in the kitchen as Miku wondered how the conversation had even arrived at this point. _I wish I could tell them the truth, but Abaddon isn't supposed to be here – I wasn't supposed to have summoned a demon from Hell! _"Why marriage?" she asked weakly, for lack of a better response. Abaddon was still not being of any help in this matter, the two men in the kitchen just watching her like she was a play.

"Well, surely you two are considering marriage if you have already…" Meiko let her voice trail off. Miku wanted to hide her face somewhere – she could no longer look at her aunt in the same light – and finally, _finally, _Abaddon decided to interrupt. She did not know if she was thankful for that or not, because anything which came out of the demon's mouth would probably make matters worse – but she didn't want to respond to her aunt's queries anymore. She didn't know how to explain all this away.

"Sorry, but I haven't slept with her yet, if that's what you're saying," Abaddon said candidly, inspiring another shocked silence in the kitchen. Miku could not appreciate his rough candour, especially not at a time like this. "So I don't think there's a need for marriage? Though I would like that," he turned and shot her a charming smile, his perfect straight white teeth gleaming in the lamplight. If Miku did not know better, she would have said that the demon was actually enjoying himself. He couldn't possibly be.

"Well," Kaito finally broke the silence. "I'm glad to see you have…so much interest in our niece, Len," he coughed, sounding terribly awkward. "Which sorcerer clan did you say you're from again?" he queried, hastily changing the topic. Miku glanced at Abaddon to see how he would react to this question. Indeed, what would he pose as?

There was a pause, as though the blond haired boy was thinking. Finally, he glanced up, his blue eyes meeting the gazes of everyone present in the room. "I'm part of the Kagamine family, of the Irxia clan. We're one of the last few families left, unfortunately, but I'm still looking for my parents. We got separated during the Witch Hunt a few years ago, and I haven't found them since," he had the perfect amount of sadness in his voice, and Miku would have quite liked to applaud him for his amazing acting ability.

Meiko and Kaito were obviously taken in by that. "During the Witch Hunt, you say?" Meiko repeated, her brown eyes darkening slightly as memories returned to haunt her. Miku's brow furrowed in thought – the Witch Hunt had never affected her village before – _at least, it never had before _– but her aunt had lived through the Hunt a decade ago, and she knew the memories of that bitter time still lingered in Meiko's mind, like dark shadows not quite daring to step into the light, lest they be burnt away. "The Irxia clan…it was a tragedy indeed, most of those belonging to that clan were wiped out."

"In less than a few hours," Abaddon agreed sadly, and Miku found herself being rather taken in by the realistic sadness in his voice. "I do not know if my parents managed to escape the pyre, but if they have I am determined to find them. Ever since the disaster, I have been pushed off regularly to different relatives, all of them unwilling to take me in…they branded me a curse, unwanted even by my own kind," now his voice was layered with faint disgust. Miku was forced to recall the way the other magical races ostracised witches and sorcerers, and unwillingly she found herself sympathising with Abaddon, though it was all nothing but a lie and she was perfectly _aware _of that.

He weaved his sob story with expert precision, carefully eliciting pity with every sad, honey sweet word that slipped out of his sly mouth. Even her aunt and uncle, who were two of the sharpest, most intuitive people she knew, were taken in by his apparently genuine misery, and felt pity for his plight. Even _she, _who knew that this was all no more than an elaborate ruse, felt sympathetic. She knew how it felt like to be an outcast, but she forced herself to remember that he was not a sorcerer. He was a demon from Hell.

"…and so, I met Miku less than three moons ago," he finally finished, his lips trembling just a little, looking every inch the tragic hero who had lost everything dear to him. "I pray that Heka would one day lead me to my lost family, and I know that with Miku by my side, I would be able to achieve anything," he turned to smile blindingly at her, and before she could say anything he returned his attention to his captivated audience. "She is the only hint of hope I have seen in these long years. She understands my plight, and I feel a kindred sense of need and urgency when I am with her. She completes me."

Miku wanted to choke. This was getting simply preposterous, but her enthralled aunt and uncle lapped up every single word like he was Heka come to life, revealing the most ancient and mysterious arts of his magic. "Well, if she is really such a great source of emotional support as you say she is, then I don't see anything wrong with letting you stay here until you're ready to move on with your search. Is there, Kaito?" a misty-eyed Meiko turned to Kaito. Her uncle nodded eagerly, every bit as emotional as his wife.

"Thank you, Miss Sakine and Mr Shion," Abaddon bowed his head gracefully, the feathery golden blond hair that fell forward to hide his face making him look all the more like an angel, descended from the side of the Witch Mother Hecate. Or perhaps he could be one of the stars, a spiritual guide to lead the way – she wanted to laugh at the comparison, because in reality Abaddon was a horned guide to Hell, and he would be leading her soul all the way down to the odorous depths. She was aware of that.

"It is fine; there is no need to thank us. Nevertheless, we cannot agree to let you and Miku sleep in the same room. I am afraid you would have to sleep on the sofa in our parlour, if that is not too wearisome for you," Kaito said somewhat apologetically, lacing his fingers together. Abaddon simply smiled again, looking positively pure, before declaring that he would be quite fine with the sofa and couldn't imagine better lodgings so long as he was by her side. Satisfied with that notion, her aunt and uncle left the kitchen, leaving the two of them to some alone time. Meiko winked at her on the way out, and Miku knew that she would be in for further grilling when she left the place.

Once Miku thought her aunt and uncle were out of earshot, she spun to face Abaddon, absolutely livid. The mask of innocence and tragedy the blond boy had been wearing was now discarded, and his face now had a more…suitable expression of boredom. Or at least, that emotion seemed to be far more natural on his face, given what she knew of his personality. "What were you thinking?" she hissed, almost spitting in her fury. "Why did you tell them all…all that? Now they think we're in love with each other!"

His blue eyes were filled with a disinterested light, his fingers drumming softly against the wooden kitchen table. He didn't look at her while she questioned him, and he most certainly did not look at her now. "There is no simpler reason why I would be here with you, in your stables, and at what you know to be an unholy hour," he answered, his voice a low drawl. She tensed, knowing what he said was true, but disliking his words nonetheless – there was something about this arrangement which made her uneasy.

Abaddon claimed that they had met while in her hometown, three months ago – he said that she had seen him wandering around the village, hungry and thirsty, and had kindly offered him food and temporary lodging. He had fallen for her kindness and spent days lingering around her, even though it was his habit to move on to another village after spending a few days there – he was always on the move to find his parents. It was a clichéd story, scarcely believable, but from his lips it sounded every inch the truth.

"You didn't have to kiss me in front of Kaito," she finally said lamely, that being the most pressing issue on her mind. Abaddon simply shot her an incredulous look at that, his blue eyes narrowing slightly – his pale fingers danced over the table, like he was seated at a piano, playing the ivory keys. His fingers were long and slender, and at certain angles under the flickering light, his fingers looked almost skeletal. She wondered if that was actually a hint about his real demonic form, or if she was just being overly sensitive.

"You have made a deal with one of the Greater Demons of Hell, and all you worry about is a stolen kiss?" he laughed, a cruelly melodious sound. "You are a strange child, Miku Hatsune. I will be quite interested in fulfilling my end of the bargain – just make sure that you keep to yours," his teeth gleamed in the kitchen lighting, though this time his smile was anything but friendly. "Once a demon ingests your lifeblood, your deal and promise hidden deep in your sanguine thirst, you cannot run. You cannot hide. You can never escape the demon you promised your soul to, and I hope you are aware of that."

"You would not care even if I was unaware, Abaddon," she answered softly, knowing that was the truth. The demon made no attempt whatsoever to correct her, and she knew that he was unable to deny this assumption, even if he wanted to. She wished to change the topic, not wanting to dwell on her future – she already knew she was going to go to Hell for her actions, and she had accepted that. There was no need to keep harping on about the price she would have to pay as a consequence of her bargain – that was one thing she didn't want to think about.

Thankfully, Abaddon seemed to lose interest in her deal with him, turning their talk to other matters. "You say you know who ravaged your village and killed your parents. Let us get to them swiftly, so that I can return to Hell, and _you _can give up your soul to me sooner," his blue eyes gleamed with opportunistic light. She didn't quite like that, but she couldn't argue with him – like the demon, she wanted this to be over as soon as possible. She knew she would have to give up her soul at the end, so there was no point in tarrying, since anyway she would have her goals fulfilled at the end of it all too.

"The Witch Hunt – I am most certain of it, the town of Silverton has been eyeing Carpia for a long time now," she winced at the mention of her old village, the memory of the bustling home it had been for her until it was burnt to the ground. Witches were not invulnerable to fire – like any other human being, witches could burn, and witches could die…humans had always feared the witches, living in an uneasy peace with them, and every so often 'Witch Hunts' would take place, where humans finally lost their patience and decided to murder all the witches before they could attack the mortals first. Witches could rarely put up much of a resistance, for there were far more humans than witches, and the humans often overwhelmed their villages.

She knew that, and she wanted the town of Silverton to be razed to the ground. _An eye for an eye, to fight fire with fire…I will not rest until they are brought to their knees, and the perpetrators of the Witch Hunt are killed in a slow, intimate manner, bringing to mind all their deepest fears and their darkest, most guilty secrets. I want to bring them all to ruin, and I want them to understand what the implications of offending a witch are._

Abaddon raised an eyebrow at her words, so filled with conviction. "Oh, is that really the case now? What makes you so absolutely certain, Miku?" he said her name with a casual intimacy that made her recall the fine, gossamer-thin web of lies he had spun for her relatives – wincing, she tried to shove the apparent relationship between them away. "But if that is really what you think," he continued before she had the chance to speak up against his questioning, "then so long as that satisfies you. All that matters to me is that I do what you contracted me to do. I shall not make things better or sweeter, not for you – all I seek from you is your soul, and the sooner this is settled, the better."

She fixed him with a steady look, and he met her gaze, an intense stand-off with neither party quite willing to back down. His eyes were like fire and ice – they had all the bitter venom of pure fire raging within the coldness of glacial blue. "And what makes you question me then, Abaddon?" she asked quietly, her gaze not wavering in the slightest despite how much she wanted to run away from his piercing stare – he was so intense, so mysterious and so all-knowing, and she knew he considered himself superior to her.

He shrugged elegantly, his fingers suddenly stopping in their playing, his palms placed flat against the wooden surface. "Nothing more than an intuitive conjecture," he said simply, the predatory, knowing glint in his eyes never leaving no matter what he told her. "Honestly, it all depends on you, and what you believe. What I know is no more than what you know. Everything I know, I pulled from your memories, and nothing more than that. Despite what you think," he smiled coldly, "I am not capable of mind reading."

"Incapable of mind reading…?" she echoed, her gaze flitting away from his face to land upon his formerly dancing hands. She wondered if Abaddon knew how to play the piano. She used to do that, because it relaxed her – until her piano burnt to the ground, destroyed just like everything else in her village. The dancing flames were reflected in the elegant motions of his fingers, and she suddenly wished he would stop – wished that he would be able to drain all her memories out of her head, taking them as his own.

"I know about you because you are my contractor. When I responded to your summons, when we forged that deal between us, I could tap into your past and every single one of your memories – how else am I supposed to know about you, and know what you truly desire?" he asked, his tone rather scathing. She tried not to get offended by that. "I only know so much during that one instance – otherwise, I cannot learn anything else. I know about your past, but I cannot tap into your thoughts again, not a second time."

"I see…" her words trailed off, and she glanced away from him. So he knew everything about her village, knew what had transpired there, had seen through her eyes and knew of the thirst she felt, the need for vengeance – she had to avenge herself and the rest of the Carpia clan. Abaddon had claimed that he was one of only a few Irxia sorcerers left, after the destruction – but Miku was the only survivor of the Carpia. _The only one left._

The only reason why she had survived was because, just a few days before the ravaging of her home, she had departed to visit a friend from the Grenio clan. After a short stay at her friend's home – she had gone there to gift her with several dried herbs she picked in the woods, and those herbs were essential for the more complex Grenio witchcraft – she returned to Carpia, only to find the place was burning, burning to the ground…

She couldn't do anything. She ran back into the burning village, casting a temporary fire resistance spell over herself, and tried to locate her house in the midst of the inferno. She got to the wrecked building, the fire clawing out into the night sky like some wrathful beast, and saw two charred figures, scarcely recognisable, slumped over at the door, ashy limbs still reaching desperately out towards the doorknob. She let out a wail of despair, frantic eyes looking to the door – the door was still intact, and she knew that there had to be some sort of locking spell on the door, protecting it from flame and entrance. Protecting it from everything – and that was why her parents burnt to death.

Magic could backfire, though this happened rarely. It was not what one could consider a reliable art, though no one could deny its usefulness. Her parents preferred to use locking spells in the place of traditional locks, which would work almost as well as the spells themselves if they were charmed to deflect foreign magic – she had long implored them to switch to locks, for her parents had locked themselves in their house before by accident, since their spell had backfired on them. However, they placed their faith in pure magic and rejected the use of any other medium, even simple padlocks.

So as a result, if the magic backfired and couldn't be removed during an emergency, like in the case of a fire…her eyes stung, and she had to glance down at the kitchen floor. It was another desperate bid to prevent Abaddon from noticing her weakness, because she knew it would do nothing but further lower his opinion of her, casting her as pathetic.

She hadn't found any other survivors, none but herself. She stayed around the village for a day afterwards, even after the fire spent itself, but no one ever returned. By then, the entire magical community knew of the tragedy, for just like everywhere else tragedy and misery often spread faster than joy. No one returned to search for possible undamaged possessions, no one returned to mourn the dead, no one returned at all…she roamed the dead village, the whole place acrid with smoke and charred to an unrecognisable extent, and found a sign of Silverton town, their distinct banner lying flat on the ground.

There was no other reason why people from a human town would be in a home of witches. It had to be because they started the Witch Hunt – why else would their banner be here, miles away from their town? She knew it was a hasty conclusion to make, but this lead was all she had, and someone had to _pay _for the crime. The town banner was still in her room in her aunt's house, and the memory of the two wolves howling to the moon, emblazoned proudly on a crimson tapestry…her teeth gritted. _No, there could be no one else._

The day after the destruction, she travelled to her aunt's house at the outskirts of Chalice, and as she travelled a plan formed in her head – a horrible plan, a forbidden one, but the only one she could use. She had prayed to Hecate fervently, calling for guidance in some form, over and over again – but the goddess had not responded, and Miku finally accepted that if she wanted revenge upon the perpetrators, she would have to take matters into her own hands. She didn't tell Meiko and Kaito about her intentions, her need for revenge, because they would surely disapprove of such a black emotion taking root in her heart – but she needed closure, and revenge would provide her that.

An entire village did not deserve to perish at the hands of a bunch of olden, superstitious humans. Her clan, Carpia, had never done the people of Silverton any wrong, and they had absolutely _no right _to do this to her family and friends. She would make them suffer – she would make the people of Silverton understand what it was like to lose everything overnight, to realise that all their loved ones were dead, that they were homeless and hopeless and that the world had no pity for their plight.

"Let me see the tapestry you found," Abaddon let out a sigh, rising from his seat at the kitchen table. Miku blinked, jolted out of her memories – the demon was standing right before her, his face blank and uncomfortably close to hers. Her breath catching, she skittered back, her cheeks warming at his nearness – he was a demon, but she could not deny that he was attractive. "I saw it in your memories. Silverton's crest…but there is something off about the banner, something subtle and…" he frowned, his voice trailing off. "Unless you are set in your ways, then there is no need," he added liltingly.

"Are you saying that it might not be the actual flag?" she asked, her eyes narrowing – but she had seen the flag before numerous times, since her parents had occasional dealings with the people of the town and as a result, she often went there in her youth. The people of Silverton always regarded her and her family with fear, expecting them to lash out at them at any moment. "The design of the wolves and the full moon is exactly the same; there is no doubt that is the genuine flag of Silverton, not some mere replica."

"Which is why I said that the difference is subtle," though the demon sounded no different from how he usually did, there was an undercurrent to his voice which made her think of impatience. "But truly, it is your decision. I am just offering you the rare opportunity of _amending _your path – at present you would have me slaughter the residents of Silverton, though you have little proof of their crime other than that banner. If I were to give you the chance to decide who the real perpetrators are, why would you wish to deny that opportunity?" he questioned her, tilting his head as he studied her. "Because if you are wrong, you will have the blood of innocents on your hands, and how would that make you any different from the ones you seek revenge against?"

She resisted the urge to fidget and back away, for he had such a penetrating stare, and it made her feel rather guilty. Demons were, despite being entities of Hell, not truly evil. They were not innately sinners, for the role of a demon was simply to tempt and devour – they were, in effect, no different from any other magical creature, though they were admittedly far stronger than any of those who roamed the mortal realm. She did not know if Abaddon was evil, but she certainly could not say that he was good. So why was he offering her such a chance, when he could let her do as she wished and get his task over and done with? The only part of her he desired or needed was her soul, after all.

Abaddon's patience was thinning, and he wished she would come to a decision soon. The banner he drew out of her memories disturbed him. It was a brief glimpse, and it was not anything substantial or reliable – her memories were spiked with rage and desperation, and that coloured the memories, rendering them unreliable. He had to see the real thing to be certain, but from what he saw in her memories, something about the emblem on the flag seemed a little…different. He knew the banner of Silverton town – it had not changed in centuries, and he had once served a noble – who was a sorcerer in hiding, exiled from his clan for reasons he could not remember – from the place, so he was familiar with the flag – and he knew that what she had in her room felt…_different._

He could not place a finger exactly on what the difference was. It was a subtle change, like what he told her. Maybe something about the shade of red, something about the way the wolves tilted their heads, something about the waned white of the moon – no, one look and he could _feel _that the flag was not the original flag of Silverton. He did not fault her for not knowing the difference. She was consumed by anger, and he doubted she had as much experience with the Silverton crest as he did – after facing that banner every day in a noble's house for two decades, he knew the design fairly well.

_Would you believe the word of a demon, young child who thinks she has seen so much of the world? _Abaddon didn't know how old he was, but compared to him she had lived no longer than a minute. She was tiny, a child who thought she knew more than anyone else, and it made him want to laugh in scorn at her hurts. _What does she know of pain and suffering? What do I know of them, as a mere demon? _He knew little of human suffering and pain, restricted to Hell as he usually was, but he knew enough from observing humans that what she had experienced was a mere fraction of the suffering of all people. It entertained him, the wrath which burnt so fiercely in her bright soul, but at the same time he rather pitied her. Life was difficult for mere mortals such as her.

He would normally wish to just devour her soul as soon as possible, finishing the task and caring little for the morality of her wishes or thoughts. The mortal was responsible for her own actions after all, and he was nothing more than a means to achieving what she wanted. But he could not let go of the tainted image of that flag, waving itself triumphantly in a scarlet mess over her pure white bed, like blood against snow. There was almost a demonic element to the transformation he sensed, and if there was the interference of black magic or demonic power, then he would have to investigate.

At the moment, there were no demons out on the mortal realm other than him and perhaps a few of the other Greater Demons, and the other demons had no relation to the witches and their recent heightened tensions with the town of Silverton. This implied there was a free demon roaming, and it was his duty as a Greater Demon to look more into this, duty-bound to Hell as he was. If the flag showed nothing more than hints of tainted and corrupted magic, borne of a source that was simply magical, then he would not care. If the taint resulted from demons, then…Abbadon would have to interfere, even whilst carrying out his orders from this witch. He had different duties to different masters, and Miku Hatsune would precede Hell, but he still could not leave this alone.

Perhaps this was why he had been willing to answer her call. There was more to her tragedy than simple revenge, or so it seemed to Abaddon now. Frankly, he could hardly care less about her losses, since he had no reason to bother about a mortal, but he would have to check that there were no other demonic influences involved – that flag he saw in her memories was giving him a sense of unease, and unease was something that Abaddon rarely felt. He could not outright tell her what to do, for she was his master now and not vice-versa, but he certainly could influence her – and if this was truly the act of a roaming demon, he would subtly nudge her down that path, instead of simply insisting on the destruction of the town whose banner was now inextricably involved.

A free demon…_I have not seen such a case in the past century. It's the reason why Hecate ordered her witches to stop summoning, though Heka has not said anything to his sorcerers. _The free demon had caused much carnage and destruction on the mortal realm, and Satan finally had to step in to call the demon back, preventing mass annihilation of the mortal realm and putting an end to the demon's murder spree. Abaddon was aware, though the other magical races were not, that this demon was unlike the rest of his kind – because that free demon had been rather unstable, and was prone to the occasional fit of bloodlust and rage. He did not represent the demon race as a whole, but due to that incident, the other magical races evidently assumed that demons were simply out to engage in sadistic pleasures and bathe in the blood of their victims.

Either way, it was possible, though rather rare, for a demon to escape Hell – this could happen if the person making the summons died before a contract could be formed. Some demons did kill their potential contractors in a desperate bid for freedom, but Abaddon was usually more interested in souls than escaping from Hell, so he had never tried to murder any of the witches or sorcerers who called him…fortunately for Miku, who was clearly new and inexperienced, and had not heard enough stories about those who summoned demons.

_Luckily for her, her objectives run well enough with mine. I simply have to ensure that this flag has no link to Hell or demonic power, and if there is no connection I will be on my way. She simply wants revenge on the people who razed Carpia to the ground, and if after I examine the flag there is nothing suspicious and the change I sensed was only due to her emotional state of mind, then I will destroy Silverton for her, and feast on her soul as a reward. _He did hope that was the case, for he didn't want to tarry any longer than he had to. Her soul was a feast, and he was salivating just thinking about obtaining it.

He chose not to think about what he would do if he did find that the flag had been tampered with using Hell magic – because if so, he would have to find out who and why they did this, and if that was the case he would have to direct Miku's wrath away from Silverton. He could only stay on Earth until a contract was fulfilled, and if he satisfied her whims and destroyed Silverton simply because she had no other leads to rely on, he would not be free to find the demon who was actually behind the whole thing – for to leave a tampered flag behind in the scene of destruction was suspicious enough in itself.

He would not tell her of his suspicions now, because he didn't want to influence her decision at the moment. She had to be aware that her hastiness in blaming Silverton was the product of suspicion and sheer desperation – logically, there could be other people who were involved, and their own sets of reasons as to why they did this. Nay, it could even be a rival coven of witches, intent on destroying Carpia – who was to rule out that possibility? But she was far from logical now, and it was not the role of Abaddon to play the good angel – he took her orders to the letter, but did nothing other than that.

Finally she spoke, and he listened to her orders, smirking. "Fine, you can see the flag. I doubt there will be any actual difference from what is flown in Silverton itself," her green eyes met his, studying him intently, "but if you say there is something different about the banner in my room, I shall believe you this once. Come up then, and we'll see if you can find another party which could be liable for the destruction of Carpia."


	3. Chapter 3

She brought up a lamp, the candlelight flickering in the darkness as she led the way up to her room. He didn't need the guidance, for he knew precisely where her room was located, but he said nothing – he knew she was just looking for a sense of normalcy in the entire situation, and this was one way she used to find that normalcy.

The staircase was long and rickety, and it felt as though it would give way beneath him at any moment. He knew those were her exact thoughts, because she had been thinking this ever since she arrived at her aunt's house…yesterday? Two days ago? He could not be certain regarding that – her emotions were in a mess, and her memories were confused as well. His blue eyes slid from side to side, habitual wariness having him in its grip even when he was in a place like this. It was harmless, he knew, but he could not prevent tension from coiling in his body, making him prone to lashing out at any time.

Their walk upstairs was quiet save for the soft thud of feet against worn wood. Their shadows extended in the lamplight against the walls of the house, looking like dark faceless monsters, their mouths turned to gaping holes, their hair flaming spikes. He drew his gaze away from his dancing shadow, his eyes focusing on the teal haired girl before him – he could see how stiff she was, her back ramrod-straight as she led the way up the stairs. He wondered how much longer they would have to walk – how long was this staircase? They had already passed two landings, and this house was not very big.

They got to the third landing, his hand gliding gently against the wooden wall, feeling the texture of the panels and the memories this building contained. He knew it was an old building, given the shaky foundations and the worn panelling – the only reason why it was still standing was most likely because of magic, since he knew there was no other way the structure could have withstood the frequent thunderstorms and earthquakes which often ravaged the region of Chalice. She turned to look at him, the lamplight casting her face in eerie illumination – he looked back at her, not saying anything still.

"Well," she started, then she swallowed, almost as if she was trying to take back that one word. "The flag…the flag is there," she pointed down the landing, in the direction of a white-washed door. He supposed that was her room. Her finger trembled slightly as she pointed, and that did not evade his attention. He drifted forward, now taking the lead in her stead – she followed him quietly, her footsteps barely audible even against the creaky old floor. He wanted to look at the banner and get this whole thing over and done with. As a demon, uncertainty was one thing Abaddon – _no, Len now, that's the name I am assuming while in her service _– rarely experienced, and it was not something he could say he was fond of. The longer he tarried, the more uncertainty he felt regarding the whole situation – and the longer he had to wait before claiming her soul.

Hunger snarled in the pit of his stomach, and he resisted a wince. Down in Hell, where there was no possibility of sustenance, he was used to starving and so had not thought much about it. But up on the mortal realm, when he was in a contract with a mortal, he knew that he was going to devour a soul in the end, and his body was prepared to feast. Every second he went without eating, his body protested. He tried to find the same old patience he had in Hell, the satisfaction and the resignation – that he wasn't going to get a soul any time soon – but found he simply could not, not when she was so close to him.

He quickened his footsteps, his greatest desire to get everything over and done with. Then he could return to Hell, she would have her revenge, and everyone would be happy. He didn't particularly care for her happiness, but since revenge was what she desired from his end, then he would have no choice but to listen to her wishes. He stepped forward, his fingers curling loosely around the doorknob. As he did that, she gasped behind him, and he blinked, glancing back at her – she was staring at his hands, his fingers, as though she had seen some kind of nightmare manifesting before her eyes.

"What's the problem?" he spoke, glancing at his own fingers too – they were still pale and elegant, long and slender. The fingers of a pianist…the fingers of a demon in the shell of a human, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with their visage. He did not know why his human form was this, since it wasn't exactly something he decided, but he knew he was considered handsome in the world of humans, and that helped him greatly at times. He resisted the urge to hold out his fingers and stare at them, wondering what Miku found so strange about them. She swallowed, looking from his fingers to his face.

"No, it's nothing. Go on in," she tilted her head in the direction of the door, and Len's eyes narrowed slightly at her before he turned the doorknob, letting the door swing open to reveal her personal space. He guessed she was not comfortable with him intruding in this manner, because when he stepped into her room he did not miss the brief look of dissatisfaction which flitted across her face. He hid a smirk and turned to her bed, where he knew the flag would be lying. There it was, displayed in all its bloody prominence, and he studied the banner, his eyes watching intently as he tried to figure out the difference he felt between her memories and his. _A subtle difference…_

He reached out to the tapestry, feeling the surprisingly warm cloth against his skin. He brought the flag up closer to his face, so he could have a better look. He did not know what to look out for – like what Miku said, the flag's design was no different from the original, he had to admit that. But no, there was plainly something off about this flag. He could not tell what that difference was, but his demon senses were on high alert – his intuition told him that something was very, very wrong with this particular flag.

"So have you found the difference?" Miku had decided to step into her room at last, and now she was standing behind him, watching him watch the flag. He didn't bother turning to look at her, still rubbing the soft cloth between his fingers. It was the same shade of red Silverton made their flags in – they dyed it using the distinctive carmine dye made from cochineal insects. There was no mistaking it…the emblem, perhaps? No, the wolves and the full moon they howled to were no different. Was he mistaken?

_But I am one of the Greater Demons of Hell, and I am never wrong. _"Not yet," he told her absently, "it is hiding itself better than I thought it would. But there is something wrong with this flag, if you would like to believe me about that," he finally turned to face her, his lips curling up into a slightly derisive smile. "Still, since I cannot find the difference at the moment, then I cannot fault you for being hasty. Do you want me to just destroy the town this banner belongs to? You do not have to wait for me to finish inspecting this."

She drew back slightly, hesitation in her green eyes. "I…I would like for you to finish what it is you have to do," she gestured at the flag, trying to make the gesture seem casual, but failing quite miserably. "I do not want an innocent town to be destroyed, the same way Carpia was," her face darkened, but she did not turn away. "Like you said, that would make me no different from the real perpetrators. If you claim there is a difference and you are certain, then find that difference, and tell me the moment you do that."

It sounded like an order, and it was one that fit his objectives perfectly. He found that rather amusing. "As you wish, my mistress," he inclined his head towards her, a sign of respect for his current mortal master. As he gazed down at the floor, his tongue flicked out, running against his lips as hunger struck his body again – he could not wait to have a taste of the pure, vengeful soul that stood before him. _I'm starving…_the hunger of a demon was far worse than that of a human. The hunger of a demon felt like knives, cruel knives jabbing not only into the stomach, but into the rest of the body as well. It was a cold hunger, an impatient one, and it was so strong that it was almost a separate entity from him – it could almost have a mind of its own. His stomach twisted again.

Just then, a knock sounded. The door had been shut when Miku finally entered the room, and now she whipped around to face it, her eyes filling with shock and slight guilt – Len was a boy after all, and they were together in her room – but she paused, clearly wondering if she should open the door or pretend that she wasn't in the room. Not that Len thought the latter was believable – the house was not very big, and it was fairly obvious that Miku wasn't in any of the other rooms. Unless maybe she had gone outside…but then again there was nothing to see outside either. This rickety old house was, evidently, at the very outskirts of Chalice, in the middle of barren nothingness.

"Miku?" Meiko's voice called out, and there came another knock. Miku turned to look at him, panic written all over her face – he held back a laugh, not wanting to reveal his presence in her room quite as yet. "I know you're in there! We need to have a talk, you and I!" this time, there was a series of knocks, quite impatient sounding. Len arched an eyebrow at Miku, a look that clearly said, _you really ought to open that door, you know._

She gestured wildly at him in return, asking what he would do and how he would hide. He just shrugged elegantly, looking rather uncertain himself. Miku let out a sigh of weary resignation and turned to the door – she knew that even if she did not open the thing, Meiko would kick the door down or something equally drastic, and then she'd probably end up in even more trouble. And she'd probably have to fix the door that her aunt kicked down as well. "I'm coming," she called out. The door stopped shaking.

She walked slowly over to the door, dreading the meeting with her aunt – she knew exactly what it was that Meiko wanted to talk about. She turned the doorknob as slowly as she could, trying to stall for every single second possible, but knowing that she would have to face Meiko eventually. The door opened just a tiny fraction before a hand snaked into the room, fingers gripping the old wood tightly – with a rough push, Meiko opened the door wide, evidently having lost patience. Not that her aunt had that much patience to begin with. "Miku, we need to talk about your boyfriend –" she fell silent as her gaze fell upon the other person in the room, who was seated comfortably on the bed. There was silence for several moments, before Abaddon smiled and waved at her.

Meiko's brow furrowed, and she gaped at Abaddon for a while longer – finally, almost uncertainly, her aunt waved back, looking like she thought Abaddon was an illusion or something of that sort. "I didn't know you were in here as well, Len," Meiko spoke, her words carefully chosen. "But I would like to speak to Miku in private for a while, and I'm really sorry for interrupting…whatever it was you were doing," the way her aunt's voice lilted slightly let Miku know exactly what Meiko was thinking about. She wanted to splutter in absolute outrage and indignation, but a warning look from the demon prevented her from saying anything, and a mutinous expression spread over her face at that.

"We weren't doing anything," he sounded so surprised that Miku couldn't help but think he wasn't faking it – but he had to be, right? No one could sound so genuine. "And of course you can talk to her! You're Miku's aunt – I would never think to offend you in any way," he smiled graciously, inclining his head elegantly in Meiko's direction, before he got off the bed and quietly left the room, leaving behind nothing but a malignant sense of expectancy…but perhaps that was felt by no one other than Miku, who was still feeling suspicious of Abaddon and his true nature. He was not benevolent, so what was he?

The door clicked shut, and Meiko pursed her lips, her brown eyes flicking between the door and Miku's slightly nervous expression. Meiko already did say that she intended to ask her questions about Miku's boyfriend, or at least what appeared to be her boyfriend, and Miku half-expected there to be questions about what Abaddon truly was. Though the rational part of her knew that his disguise and his fake past were all flawless and perfectly believable, she couldn't stop herself from worrying and thinking that Meiko and Kaito would expose Abaddon at any moment. It was silly of her to worry so. But then that was the consequence of having a guilty conscience such as hers, wasn't it?

"Len Kagamine," Meiko tested the name on her tongue, her attention returning to her niece – Miku fidgeted slightly under the weight of her stare. Miku had always been a rather nervous girl, fidgety and flighty, and even after all these years she had not been able to grow out of this irritating habit. "He is a very interesting boy. I have never met a surviving Irxia witch, much less a sorcerer. But you know," Meiko leant back against the wall, lacing her fingers together and placing them on her stomach, "his story…it was all from him, how he met you and how you understood him, cared for him when he was feeling absolutely hopeless. It sounds like an interesting tale…I'd like to know _your _side."

Miku should have seen this coming. After the overly dramatic sob story the demon had weaved, she knew someone would come to listen to her side, and expect a tale almost as good as his, if not even better. But how was she supposed to come up with a lie to convince her intuitive aunt? Meiko was one of the few witches with the Sight – a special gift that granted her greater insight, gave her an intuition and foresight that bordered on prophetic. She was actually shocked that Meiko had not seen through Abbadon's lies.

"Len…" she said the name slowly, unused to the name. It was not one that was common amongst the Carpia sorcerers. "He's…I don't really know much about him," she knew that the only way she could lie convincingly to her aunt was to twist the truth and the facts, but not lie outright. "I just know some things…he's very powerful and well-versed in the arts of sorcery, even better than Uncle, I think," she hesitated. "I didn't think that I would have to care for him the first time I saw him," _that is still a truth. I still don't think that I am expected to care for him. He is a demon, and demons can look after themselves._

"Really…?" Meiko quirked an eyebrow, interest still plainly obvious in her eyes – Miku wondered what it was that her aunt wanted to hear from her. "Then in the end, why did you decide to take him in? If he so powerful, then surely you would have left him well alone. I know what you are like, Miku – you usually try your best to keep a low profile, and taking in a stranger like Len Kagamine would go against that. So what made you act differently this time? Was it just because he is so handsome?" Meiko asked slyly.

She flushed in embarrassment and a little indignation – she knew Meiko meant that only as a joke, but did her aunt really think that Miku was so shallow? "Of course not," she snapped automatically, then promptly shut her mouth, uncertain about how to continue from this point. "There…there was something about him that…that intrigued me," she finally said, knowing that this was a lame reason. _But it is the truth. I do find him to be a rather curious person. Then again, perhaps I only think that way because he is a demon and I have never met anyone else quite like him. _"I wanted to get to know him better."

"So you did," Meiko tilted her head. Her aunt was dressed in a crimson nightgown, the silk sash wrapped tightly around her narrow waist. Her aunt was a decade older than her, and she was an extremely attractive woman. She had married into the Aquarius clan, her husband being Kaito Shion, a sorcerer who was considered to be highly skilled at magic, especially when taking into account his relative youth. Miku wondered if she would ever grow up to look sensuous and beautiful like her aunt. She drew comfort from the fact that she did have Meiko's narrow waist and long legs, even if her chest was…not the biggest around.

"Not that he told me much. All I know is his past tragedy, and little else other than that. I suspect it's because he's been a wanderer for so long, and he has little else to say…I suppose he would have the most fascinating tales to narrate, but he wouldn't have much family history to talk about. The Witch Hunt in Irxia took place a decade ago, and…he would have been very young then. Too young to really have gotten to know his family well," she wrapped up her words, the ring of truth obvious in every syllable she uttered.

Internally, she let out a sigh of relief, thankful that she had managed to work her way around Abaddon's story without lying outright. She still wondered why Meiko could not see through Abaddon's blatant lies, and thought that perhaps being a demon gave him some resistance against the Witch's Sight. She would have to ask him to satisfy her curiosity later...or perhaps she could ask Meiko now? She stole a glance at the brunette – Meiko was nodding to herself, a pensive look in her eyes, and she appeared to have accepted what Miku said…at least for now. Miku knew her words were not extremely believable, but it would make do for the time being – she would just come across as secretive.

"Meiko?" she asked, and her aunt glanced up, ruby red lips parting slightly in surprise as her niece interrupted her halfway through her thought process. Miku wondered what she was thinking of now. She wondered a lot of things. "You know, your Sight?" she hesitated, and Meiko nodded, tilting her head questioningly. Miku took a deep breath, knowing that her aunt would not react well to the question she was about to ask, and prepared herself mentally for the possible repercussions which might come about while speaking of a forbidden rite…a forbidden race. "Are demons…able to trick your Sight?"

Shock flitted across Meiko's face at the unexpected question. She stared at Miku for a while, unable to think of or form any coherent sentence. Miku just waited patiently for Meiko to say something, and finally the brunette swallowed, her slender fingers tapping agitatedly against her other arm. Her red-painted nails made a stark contrast against the pale skin. "Why would you even ask such a thing? You shouldn't speak of demons. You have no idea how cruel they are, how merciless they can be…there is a reason why Hecate banned us from summoning them. Why would you ask about demons, Miku?"

"Curiosity…I'm just curious," she shrugged lightly, trying her best to sound casual. Meiko studied her intently, and Miku knew she was making use of her Sight to try and figure out if her niece was telling the truth. Judging from the way her shoulders relaxed subtly, her eyes finally losing some of its suspicion, the Sight told her that Miku was, indeed, simply curious. _I suppose that is one flaw of the Sight. It is highly specific. If I say that I am curious, and I am indeed curious, it accepts that I am telling the truth, even if there are other reasons. _"Just in case I ever run into a demon or something," she added.

Meiko shook her head. "The likelihood of that is low," she laughed harshly, a bitter, grating sound. "Demons are ruthless beings, Miku. There are stories…legends about them and what they do just to obtain their favourite treats. They adore the souls of their victims – and to them, nothing is sweeter than the soul of a magical creature. Human souls are normal sustenance, while magical ones are their desserts. And witch souls are the sweetest, creamiest, richest dessert of all," Meiko shook her head again, this time in apparent disgust. "They lie and beguile, they twist facts and whisper sweet nothings into your ear, just so that you'll fall into their arms, entranced by them…and then they devour you. It's sweeter for them that way. They aim to conquer you – you are their master in name, but you're nothing more than a puppet they control. And then they take you."

A chill ran down her spine as suddenly, an image of Len's icy blue eyes filled her mind. The intent in that gaze never failed to make her stare, to make her watch him the way a rat was hopelessly entranced by an owl, just before the predator gobbled its prey. She hoped that Meiko was simply exaggerating – these were legends and tales after all, and hopefully they would not be the absolute truth. "I thought demons just wanted to get the deal they made over and done with. I've never heard of them playing such a game of mastery and control with their victims. Is it uncommon, then?" she asked.

Meiko snorted. "Uncommon? Unlikely – demons are, like most magical creatures, fond of their entertainment. It's just that _their _fun comes at a much higher price than everyone else's," she sighed, brown eyes drifting away from Miku for a moment. "That's what happened to one of your ancestors, you know. An aunt, several generations before yours…she made a deal with a Lesser Demon. I think it was Mephistopheles. The blasted creature tricked her into letting him invade her body, using it as a literal puppet, and when he accidentally got her mortal shell killed he simply took her soul. I think, at that point, he hadn't even fulfilled his side of the bargain," Meiko sighed. "If even a Lesser Demon is capable of such a thing, then imagine…what would a Greater Demon be like?"

Her blood ran cold. Indeed, she knew that story – it was folklore that had passed down through her clan for ages. But she had thought it was just an old horror story, to warn them of the dangers of defying the Witch Mother's orders – she had not expected it to be a real story. "A Greater Demon?" she said weakly, not quite knowing how to react to Meiko's words. "Like…let's say…Abaddon?" she asked tentatively, watching the look of puzzlement cross her aunt's face. After some consideration, she finally looked up at her.

"Abaddon…Apollyon?" she asked, and Miku nodded, knowing that Apollyon was simply another name for the demon. Abaddon appeared in both Greek and Hebrew mythology, and while the witches were more prone to following the Hebrew legends, some of them were more familiar with the highly prevalent Greek culture. "I don't know why you would ask about Apollyon of all demons, Miku…Apollyon is really one of the worst in existence. He lives solely for his own sake, and cares little for anything other than the demands of Hell and his master. He's the _Destroyer, _Miku. I think his title alone would speak more than enough for the magnitude of danger that comes with dealing with a demon like him. Why the sudden interest in Apollyon, anyway?" Meiko narrowed her eyes, and Miku froze up, her mind racing as she tried to think of a suitable reply.

She did not want Meiko to suspect her of her plan. Well, she had already summoned Abaddon anyway, so nothing Meiko did now could change that – but she didn't want to involve her aunt in her personal goals and desires. She knew Meiko would lose her head if she realised that Miku had made a bargain with a Greater Demon, and Miku really didn't want to deal with that – especially since no amount of screaming would change the fact that she would ultimately end up in Hell. "Like I said, curiosity. Anyway," she hastily changed the topic, manoeuvring it to safer ground, "you haven't answered my question. Are demons capable of evading your Sight ability? Can they lie to you?"

Meiko seemed reluctant to let go of the Apollyon issue, but she acquiesced to the new question anyway. "Demons…" she echoed, her fingers still drumming against her arm, an obvious sign of her agitation. "I suppose so," she finally said, shrugging lightly though she looked most displeased with such a possibility. "They are beings which live on lies and untruths, and they get the best sustenance simply by twisting a bargain to their own advantage. If a creature exists for the sole reason of lying, then naturally that would bypass my Sight…I cannot defy what Nature and Magic have created. Demons are natural liars, and even the Sight cannot see through that," Meiko said, rather resigned.

"I see…" Miku forced a smile at her aunt, trying to convince her that there was really nothing wrong with her at the moment. "Well, thanks for answering my questions, Aunt. I didn't know who else to turn to, since demon summoning is forbidden amongst the witches, and no one would be patient enough to put up with my questions and not immediately accuse me of blasphemy, anyway. I'm really not intending to do anything," she hastily reassured her aunt, noticing Meiko's suspicious expression. "Demonology is just highly fascinating. I was wondering why Hecate banned the ritual to summon a demon while Heka did not. Did you ever have any idea why?" she blinked innocently.

Heka was the God of Sorcery, the male counterpart to Hecate. The witches swore to the Witch Mother Hecate, while the sorcerers all made their oaths upon their god Heka. Heka was consort to Hecate, just like how sorcerers were meant to be consorts to the witches. There were far more witches than sorcerers, and that naturally led to witches occasionally marrying humans, hiding their magical identities in order to do that – the offspring of such an union might have magical ability or might not, depending on pure luck. The children of a witch-sorcerer couple would always be magical themselves.

"I suppose Heka considers his sorcerers to be few enough that summoning demons would not wreak much havoc on this plane," Meiko shrugged. "Anyway, you know what men are like – stubborn and egoistic. Even if someone told Heka that the demons were dangerous, he would think that his sorcerers are easily capable of reining them in," she snorted after she spoke those words. "Sometimes, I wonder how Hecate puts up with Heka. It reminds me of my own relationship with your uncle. He is ridiculously proud and stubborn – you know, just last week I told him that he had collected the dew at the wrong time for this particular ritual he wanted to carry out, and he wouldn't listen to me since he was so convinced it was morning dew – well, the ritual asked for sunset dew, but he certainly didn't take my advice! And then the ritual ended up backfiring."

Miku could not help but giggle at her aunt's annoyed tone. "What happened after that? The whole backfiring thing?" at the mention of a backfiring spell, she thought back to how her parents' protective charm had backfired, causing them to be stuck in a burning house, unable to escape from the locked residence…she swallowed and tried to push the memories away, not wanting to focus on something that was still so raw and painful.

"Oh, he turned himself into a puppy. But I put that right soon enough – I actually had half a mind to make him stay that way, because a puppy is decidedly more adorable and obedient than Kaito. But then the spell probably isn't permanent, and if I didn't change him back, when Kaito naturally returned to his human form he would kick up one hell of a fuss," Meiko rolled her eyes in disdain. _Kaito and Meiko really do have a strange love-hate relationship. I don't think I'll ever be able to figure out how they interact with each other. _"Let's see if he still dares to ignore me in the future," Meiko continued muttering, and Miku edged slightly away from her aunt – Meiko suddenly looked rather dangerous, and she knew better than to interrupt her while she was in such a mood.

There was the sound of another knock, and they both started, their gazes lifting to the door. The knocking sound came again, this time decidedly more persistent, and Miku and Meiko exchanged a glance, wondering who it could be at this hour. When Meiko reached out to open the door, Miku's eyes widened – there stood Abaddon, his blond hair half-covering one of his glacial blue eyes, the small smirk on his face making her think that he knew about every single thing that she and her aunt had just discussed.

"I was wondering if I could join your conversation. Kaito went to bed – he said he didn't feel too good. He was asking for you, Miss Sakine," he added, turning respectfully to face the older woman. Meiko blinked, processing Abaddon's unexpected words, and after a quick farewell and a semi-joking warning not to 'fool around', the brunette left the room, hastily going over to her husband. There was silence for a while as Miku struggled with the idea of facing Abaddon again so soon – after the warning Meiko gave her about the Greater Demons, she couldn't help feeling on edge around the boy.

Abaddon glanced at her, his small smirk suddenly disappearing. "I could hear you, you know. These walls aren't thick," was all he said, but she didn't know what he thought of their conversation. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as he approached her, slowly and deliberately, like a cat cornering a trapped mouse. She wished she could run away, but he was between the bed and the exit, and she knew she could not get past him in such a narrow space. He reached her, and all she could do was hold her head up, determined not to show him a single ounce of fear even though she was aware of what he could do to her.

"I wouldn't defy my master. You know that. The rules of Hell state so. But whether I play games with you…" his fingers reached out, cold as ice, and when he gripped her chin tightly and forced her to look into his eyes, she tried not to flinch. "I cannot say anything about that," he shrugged lightly, his blue eyes entirely unreadable. "Your aunt is not a foolish woman. Your story was barely passable. I will have to teach you how to make up better lies, especially while on the spot…you are indeed troublesome," he frowned at her, which elicited an answering glare. "Or perhaps, I could even teach you how to bypass the Sight…" he leant down to whisper in her ear, his blond hair tickling her cheek. She skittered back at his closeness, and he just laughed at her reaction.

"How badly do you want my soul?" she asked candidly, curious about what Meiko had said. Was it true that a witch's soul was the sweetest treat of all to a demon, or was that mere speculation? Demons would devour witch's souls the most since they were usually the ones invoking the Hell entities. Abaddon just tilted his head, staring at her rather quizzically, and that made her wonder if her question was actually a stupid one. Why did he look at her as though she was…strange to him, like he couldn't read her? But all she had asked was one simple question. _Is it forbidden for him to answer or something?_

"Very badly," he answered just as candidly, his fingers suddenly moving from her face to her arm, gripping it tightly. She winced in pain, his fingers tightening – that was going to leave a bruise. She tried to shake him off, but he wouldn't let go. "I'm starving, Miku Hatsune. Literally starving – I haven't had a soul in centuries and centuries. And I intend to make your soul mine as soon as I can," his eyes glowed with ravenous hunger, and she realised blatantly that he was not lying…not about his need. "The more you put your contract off, the hungrier I get, and I do hope that your soul would be worth the wait."

_Put the contract off…ah. _Because she had yet to order him to eliminate any particular group, since he hadn't found out why he felt the Silverton flag – it was now lying on her pillow, draped across the white like some kind of royal robe – was different. She really did not want the blood of innocents staining her hands – she was already going to Hell, but she did not want any more sins to be piled up upon her head when she went down. "You're the one who questioned me," she pointed out, shaking her shoulder viciously – his grip loosened, and she wrenched her arm away from him. "You shouldn't have, in that case."

His eyes narrowed slightly at her, and she waited with bated breath, suddenly realising that he was much, much stronger than her and there was no telling what he could do to her, like what Meiko had warned – but she was his master, so surely he could not be allowed to harm her? "Then you would want me to keep everything I know to myself, and not share a single word with you?" he asked. It was a loaded question, and she did not know how to respond, so she directed the questioning down a different path.

"Is Kaito really poorly? If you lied, Meiko would be most displeased – and she would know that you are immune to her Sight, and that might make her suspect you," Miku warned. Abaddon shot her a look which made her think that she was an idiot.

"Of course he is. I do not lie about unimportant things. In fact…I rarely lie at all," his smile suddenly returned, an eerie return that made her feel rather…unnerved. But she was already unnerved by him, anyway. "I do what you like to do, Miku. I twist the truth, but I never outright lie – and, even if you're my master, it's up to you to decide what can be taken as fact, and what might require a little bit of thinking. I do not provide answers as easily as what you might wish. I follow your orders down to the letter, but that's all."

_How frustrating…_before she could verbalise her thoughts, Abaddon came closer to her again, his face right before her eyes, and her mind immediately blanked out. "How very naïve and trusting of you," he whispered, more to himself than to her, "to believe every single thing that _anyone _tells you. Surely you should know by now how to differentiate between truths, lies and fiction. Do you really think I would want to play a game with you, Miku?" he sounded almost hurt, and she did not know what to believe. His personality said that yes, he was twisted enough to trick her and play with her – but he sounded so genuine, so sad and frustrated. What was she to believe this time?

"I'll leave you to think about that," he continued, when it seemed that she wasn't going to give him an answer any time soon. Turning, he left the room, the door clicking shut softly behind him, and this time no one tried to come in again after that. She swallowed, mulling over his words in her mind – _to play a game, to make me the master only in name so that he can pull whichever strings he wants behind the curtains…_but what could Abaddon possibly want to achieve with that? She didn't know, since there was nothing she had other than her soul which was of any particular value to the demon.

Abaddon the Destroyer…but she didn't know why he was given that title. It was most curious, and perhaps one day she would find out. Until then, she would be on her guard – for if he was called the Destroyer, then would he want to destroy her as well?


	4. Chapter 4

Len went back down the stairs, his gaze slanted towards the wall. His shadow was still there, following him, making him stare at it, thoroughly mesmerised by its strangeness.

In Hell, there were no shadows. Was there a need for a shadow when one was trapped in a land of eternal fire and torture? So he had no idea what his shadow would look like, should he be in his demon form. Whenever he came up to the surface, his shadow would come along, and he would always find it so very, very strange. It was an odd thing.

What did humans say? That a name and a shadow were inherent parts of the being, and without one the others could not exist? The Egyptians called their shadows the _sheut_, and shadows were said to contain something of the person they represented. Heka should know the most about this, seeing how the God of Sorcery had his roots in Ancient Egypt – but Len had no way to contact the sorcerer god, nor did he have any desire to.

He did wonder why Hell had no shadows, since there was light in Hell – and so long as there was light, shouldn't there be shadow? In the mortal world, shadows were cast when light was blocked by their objects' forms, after all. Perhaps this hinted that, in accordance to Egyptian beliefs, the shadow was, indeed, something special and sacred, something which represented some part of a person? _But demons have no shadow, so what does that mean? _He stopped halfway down the stairs, still looking at his dancing shadow.

_Greater Demon Abaddon…_the name slithered through his mind, the voice rasping and hissing like millions of tiny snakes – Len instantly shot to attention, his gaze fixed straight ahead of him. To anyone else, the boy would suddenly have looked paralysed, like a beautiful statue, but no more living than that. _I see you have disappeared from Hell. Did one of the witches summon you, then…or perhaps a sorcerer? _The voice coiled up in his thoughts like a reptile poised to strike, and Len swallowed, closing his eyes so that he could better concentrate on the telepathic connection and not on the mortal plane.

_A witch has summoned Hell. No one else answered the call, so I decided to see what the girl desired enough to sacrifice her soul for. It is a simple job, and I should be back fairly soon. _Provided he ever managed to find the corruption in the flag…if he did manage to seek out the taint, he didn't think he would be returning to Hell any time soon in the foreseeable future. _I'm surprised you even realised I was missing, Satan, _he added, somewhat acidly.

The voice snickered in his mind. _One of my favoured Greater Demons…? Of course I knew you were gone. Hell cried out when you left. _Len could almost imagine the demon shaking his head in amusement. _I am just surprised that you answered a general summon. You rarely even listen to the specific ones, even if they request specially for the Destroyer. I truly wonder what is so special about this witch, Abaddon…I might go up to pay her a visit myself, _the voice hummed. Len's eyes flicked open, and they narrowed slightly at those words – he didn't quite like the idea of Satan coming up here, even if he was Hell itself.

_I'd really rather you not, Satan, _he answered. _Though I do appreciate your concern…or perhaps lack thereof – oh, and are there currently any demons gone from Hell? Demons which shouldn't be missing? _He changed the topic – he didn't want Satan to get more interested in the witch who had summoned him, because if Satan came up here and realised how sweet and delicate her soul was, how delicious it would be…something almost like possessiveness flitted through him, and he blinked. Furiously, he shook his head, pushing the emotion aside so he could better concentrate on this conversation.

_Missing demons? _The Master of Hell sounded thoughtful. There was a pause, and Len simply waited for the answer, knowing that Satan was now flipping through his mental list of demons, trying to find out if any of them weren't present in Hell at that moment. It would take a while – there were hundreds and hundreds of demons, especially when it came to the lesser ones. _Yes, there are a few, but that is nothing special. Demons always find some way to get out of Hell, and I do not mind so long as they don't start destroying things up on the mortal plane and end up implicating me in their mess. Why the sudden concern?_

Satan sounded curious. Len just let out a sigh, wondering if he should speak the truth, and ultimately deciding there was no advantage in lying this time. _The task…the contract I decided upon with the witch. It's fairly complicated, but I can tell you that right now, I suspect there is a demon on the run from Hell, who was involved in the carnage of Carpia just a few days ago. At least, that is my suspicion. I have not found any proof yet, but the vestiges of magic I saw in her memory pointed clearly to Hell magic, which worries me._

_Carpia? _Satan echoed the name incredulously. There was silence between the two demons for a while, during which all Len heard was a faint buzzing in his mind – a sign that they were still connected mentally, but that Satan wasn't saying anything. When he did next speak, Len almost flinched in surprise – the Master rarely sounded so furious. _If it is the work of a demon, Abaddon, then I want you to drag the idiot back to Hell, as close to death as you can push him. We have a truce with the witches. Hell has agreed that we would not harm the witches if they summon us, to respect the fact that in spite of their ban, they are desperate enough to call for Hell. We do not harm the witches until we are done with our bargain, when we will obtain their soul for our reward. Who could have done it?_

That was true. The demons were not supposed to lay a finger on the witches, which was something that most of the witches were seemingly unaware of – because most of the lesser demons ignored that treaty. Only the Greater Demons ever bothered to follow it, because they were all closely tied to Satan and Satan would know the moment a Greater Demon harmed a witch. Lesser Demons, who were always more desperate to flee Hell than the Greater ones, would slaughter the poor fool who summoned them and hastily flee so that they could enjoy unrestrained freedom for as long as possible. This treaty was created with one of the Witch Queens, back when the ban by Hecate was first set.

Hecate had banned demon summoning several centuries ago. Almost a thousand years, if Len's memory did not fail him. However, witches realised the importance of demons, who occasionally acted as their familiars and, like in the case of Len and Miku, often helped them to accomplish things which were otherwise unachievable for them alone. So the Witch Queen of that time negotiated with Satan, and they came to an agreement that in exchange for going against her goddess, a witch who was desperate enough to break their most sacred law would not be touched by the demon summoned. They would not be harmed at all, not in the slightest, be it emotionally or mentally or physically – essentially, the demon was to be nothing other than a servant to the witch.

_Perhaps the demon burnt Carpia in accordance with his orders, _Len suggested, though he knew the possibility of that was faint. If that was the case, Satan would have told him. A demon who had fulfilled his bargain would come straight back to Hell after devouring the soul, and usually Satan would not miss such an anomaly. It was rare to see a full demon nowadays, since there were so few souls ready to be eaten. It still pointed to a free demon, and the answering snort from Satan just further cemented that idea.

_I didn't see any full demons returning to Hell the past few days. Demons can't escape the chains of Hell – if they left because of a contract and they have fulfilled their end of the bargain, they are automatically sucked back down here. You know that, _Satan echoed the thoughts which had been running through his mind just now. _Very well, since you suspect that someone free is on the loose…then stay on Earth, tell me what you manage to find. Why, Abaddon, _Satan's voice suddenly filled with humour, _trouble always does seem to seek you out. You always get the strangest tasks when you're summoned, don't you?_

_Don't remind me, _Len looked away from the wall opposite him, his gaze slanting down towards the floor. _I will do what you told me to do even without you demanding so, Satan. My job is to destroy the people who destroyed Carpia, so…I might have to kill the demon, if it really is the work of an escaped one, _he said apologetically. He knew Satan would not have wanted him to kill the culprit – not straightaway, at least – but if Miku wanted him to do so, he would have to. The orders from his Mistress preceded those of Hell…in most cases, anyway. There were some rules in Hell that simply could never be broken.

_Never betray Satan and your home, no matter what your orders are. Never simply summon the Master without prior approval from him, even if you're told to do so, because Satan charges a high price which most mortals are unwilling to pay. Never hold off taking a soul after fulfilling the bargain – take the soul which is owed to you and return to Hell; no delays are forgivable. Most of all, never fall in love with a mortal – the treaty says not to touch the witch, and that extends to romance as well. Demons are servants to the witches they serve, and no more than that. _The four most important rules of Hell, not to be bent or broken under any circumstances – Len had done a good job of keeping to the rules all this time, and hopefully would not have to come up against them for this contract.

_I know. If your witch tells you to execute the fool then do so, _Satan sighed. _Just summon me before you do. I have yet to punish any demons for ignoring the treaty, since I have no idea where all the other offenders are. I want to make this one a good example of how I will punish the ones who break our old bargain with the witches as a whole. I might be a demon, but I do not break my promises. _The last few words were whispered almost threateningly, and Len murmured something in assent. Satan then departed from his mind, leaving Len's head strangely empty – he shook his head sharply, getting rid of the leftover white noise. He wondered if Satan was simply feeling bored in Hell – it was actually rather unlike him to take such personal interest in Len's contracts.

What the Master said was true, though. He did not break his promises, and since Hell had promised the witches centuries ago that they would not hurt the witches without cause, Satan would be most displeased with this situation. An entire village of witches, slaughtered for no apparent reason, and most likely the work of a demon on the run… "You fool, daring to defy the Master that way," Len whispered, making his slow way back down to the parlour, where he knew he was supposed to sleep tonight, "It would be better to rot in Hell than to come up here and anger him, for whichever reasons you may have," he tilted his head, thinking back to the destruction in Miku's memories.

They were raw memories, emotional and poignant and filled with pain. It made them all the more delicious and unique to him. Demons did not feast on memories, but they liked watching the memories of their contractors – every single contractor was different, and their lives were very different from the mundane, eternal life of a demon. _Her _memories, especially, were so tortured in their grief that it couldn't help bringing to mind his own torturous wait for her soul. It was one of the only things that ever filled his thoughts, the hunger for something to end centuries of never-ending famine and pure starvation.

He was not used to never-ending hunger. There was a point in time, in the past, when he had so many summons that he could not even begin to keep track of them all. He was one of the most powerful demons in Hell, and he could afford to be picky about whom he was willing to obey – even if he turned down one summon, three more would spring up in their place. That was back before summoning was banned, and he could have his pick of feasts. In fact, he ate so much that the taste of souls started to get _tasteless. _They no longer seemed like fresh, creamy desserts to him – in fact, they seemed more like cardboard, and that moment was when he realised he was over-indulging.

So he withdrew from summons. Shortly after that, Hecate herself laid a ban on the invoking of Hell entities. After some time, the craving for souls started returning, but no one called for him anymore, and he had lived in a continuous cycle of self-ravaging hunger ever since. Witches always wanted the Destroyer to help them, especially if the task they needed assistance with required destruction of some sort – of course they would seek his help, since _destroy _itself was found in his title. He was meant to torture and completely tear down. The demon Abaddon was meant to annihilate and slaughter and feast on the many bloody corpses and dead wishes of the people who got in his way.

He made his way down to the parlour, where Kaito and Meiko had arranged some pillows and blankets on their long, narrow couch. He looked dubiously down at the couch for a moment, wondering if it was possible for him to sleep on such a thing without falling off – the couch looked dangerously small, and he thought that he might wake up the next morning with his face flat against the wooden floor. However, he was aware that he didn't have a better alternative, so with a soft sigh he slid himself under the covers, gazing up at the ceiling. The room was dark, the only light there being the faint moonlight which filtered in through the windows past the gauzy curtains. Strictly speaking, he didn't really need to sleep, but thought it would be better to keep up the pretence that he was human, since he was currently under the roof of Miku's relatives.

He wondered whether Miku was able to sleep, with those memories haunting her that way. From the dark circles underneath her eyes, he didn't think she had slept at all ever since the ravage of Carpia. That wasn't something he could claim as weak, though – he supposed that anyone else wouldn't be able to sleep well after witnessing their home being destroyed in such a manner. His lips, unconsciously, curved up into a smirk – but death and carnage were familiar things to him, so perhaps eventually she would get used to the idea of annihilation as well. Perhaps she would eventually get used to the idea of destruction – but he didn't think that was a genuine possibility, and anyway life would be boring if she changed so quickly. _No, it is better that she stays fresh and hurt_ – better for him, better for his fun. He didn't want her to grow jaded yet, not so quickly.

His eyes closed as he tried to will himself to sleep, knowing that such a thing would be nearly impossible given that he was used to being awake and that the couch was really far too narrow for him to rest properly. He shifted his head a little, then bared his teeth into a little growl of annoyance as he realised his hair was still tied up in a ponytail, and said ponytail was jabbing into the back of his head, preventing further rest. He sat up, wrenching the hairband that tied his hair out and rolling it down onto his wrist. His hair fell around his face, and he ran his fingers through it, loosening the clumps – he found long hair annoying, but he rarely bothered to cut it since he didn't spend that much time in his mortal form. His gaze lifted from the blankets to the entrance of the parlour.

He had sensed movement there, and he wasn't wrong – Miku stood there, a small paper lantern in her hand, her nightgown floating around her body. She was squinting at him, her sight obviously nowhere near as excellent as his in the darkness, and he felt his lips curl up into something resembling a smile. "Why, couldn't get to sleep so you decided to look for the demon?" he asked, his voice suddenly cutting through the silence of the late hour. Miku jumped, her expression clearly startled, and her gaze came to rest upon him.

That same gaze met his, and a few seconds later it shifted downwards, as though she was trying to avoid looking into his eyes. He had little doubt that she was still severely affected by what her aunt had warned her of, and what he had just told her – he knew that she didn't know what to trust, or _who _to trust, and that brought to his mind a very simple question – _can someone really afford to trust anyone else in this world? _They were all just separate entities making use of each other to get to a mutual or common goal. Was there such a thing as true _friendship _or _trust _or _loyalty_? There were certainly allies and mutual benefits, but loyalty…no, that was a foreign concept to demons.

The demons had no word for loyalty in their original tongue, and likewise there was no such word as _betrayal, _for without one the other couldn't exist, could it? Loyalty and Betrayal were, like so many other things, merely two sides of the same coin – Hate and Love, Heaven and Hell, Good and Evil, Yin and Yang. One could not exist without the other. If there was no such thing as loyalty, like what the demons had long known and accepted, then there was no such thing as betrayal either. And that made things in Hell, in Len's opinion, far simpler than they were up on the mortal plane. Why was there talk of politics and war and tests of loyalty? If the mortals were like the demons and realised that loyalty was just a farce, then there would be no more complications, would there?

It would be every man for himself, like how it was in Hell, and only the strongest would triumph, while the weak scrabbled for a living underneath the feet of the victors. One had to be harsh and cruel when trying to fend for their selves, and being harsh and cruel was precisely how he had gotten the title of 'The Destroyer'. It wasn't something that had been granted to him at birth – this title was one he had slaved for, and the prestige and fame and _fear _that came with it made all that effort seem…miniscule in comparison.

"I was just wondering whether you're comfortable, sleeping on the couch like that," with her free hand, she suddenly spoke, gesturing at his makeshift bed. He looked up at her, a little surprised by the fact that she was actually talking to him. "And if you aren't…well, I was going to suggest sleeping in my room. I have just enough space for a spare mattress, and they do have one underneath my bed. I'm sure Meiko and Kaito will understand, so long as we make it clear that we didn't do anything. That couch must not be comfortable for you," she tilted her head, her gaze darting away from him again. Upon hearing her words, he raised an eyebrow, watching her – what a strange offer, coming from her.

"No, I am rather fine with where I am. There's no need to inconvenience you," he told her politely. "You are, after all, my master, and I do not wish for any misunderstandings on your aunt's part either. The less fuss there is about our apparent relationship, the better things will be for both of us," he sighed, using his fingers to rake his fringe away from his eyes. Her gaze followed his fingers, and he found that most curious – she seemed to have a strange fascination with the slender digits. "I must ask you, is there something wrong with my hands? You've been looking at them the whole night."

She started. "Your…your hands?" she echoed, looking a little dazed. The lantern she was gripping was trembling slightly, the faint light it casted causing the shadows on the wall to dance. "Oh, it's nothing. It's really nothing," she said hastily, causing him to narrow his eyes in suspicion at her. "If you're fine with the couch, then very well – I'll leave you to your rest then, Abaddon. Have a good sleep…if demons even need to sleep, that is," she added, turning away from him. Before she could leave, however, he spoke.

"Don't call me Abaddon. Call me Len," she turned back around, her green eyes wide and questioning. He smirked, glancing at the lantern in her hand. It was still shaking slightly, like autumn leaves trembling in the breeze while they clung desperately on to the old wizened branches of a dying tree. "We do not want you to mix up my name with my demon one. Get used to referring to me, to _thinking _of me, as Len Kagamine. Oh, and do remember not to make reference to my true form," he placed a finger against his lips, his smirk widening. "I'm a sorcerer now, not a demon. It'd be best for you to maintain that impression in front of everyone. We don't want your relatives to realise now, do we?"

She gritted her teeth – he could see her frustration and indignation at being talked down to this way, saw it in the way her fingers clenched and the way her chin tilted slightly, an unconscious sign of defiance. _How interesting, to see a mortal try to stand up against a demon. Most of them are too scared to even think of defying us. _"Yes, _Len_," she gritted out, turning her face away from him once more. "Whatever you say, _Len,_" his name was said with spite and aggression, and that just amused him greatly. She was too weak and far too vulnerable for him to be offended by her vehemence. What could she possibly do to him? She was his master, but they both knew who was more powerful between them.

"Oh, there's no need to sound so begrudging now, Miku," he called out cheerfully, though not too loudly still – he didn't want to wake up Meiko and Kaito. "You _are _my mistress after all, so everything I'm doing is for your own good. You know that, don't you?" he shrugged, pushing himself up slightly off the couch so he could watch her more intently. Her shoulders had stiffened. "Even the flag," he whispered, studying her for her reaction to his words now, "me telling you to stand down when I could have just let you go ahead and destroy Silverton without any proof of their misdeed…why didn't I just do that?"

"If you're trying to play mind games with me, it's not working," she tossed over her shoulder at him, her words still filled with annoyance and venom. His smile simply widened in response – she was such an entertaining child, and watching her didn't make him feel bored by predictable human behaviour, for once. She had some backbone to her at least, which was a far cry from his last master. His last master had been a pathetic and snivelling little coward who relied on him to do all the dirty work, a coward who had trusted the word of his lackey so fully that when Len sent him on a task that was obviously fraught with danger, he foolishly went ahead, believing Len would help him.

But all Len did was stand aside and watch while the man ended up being ripped apart by vengeful Dark Elves. There was nothing in the treaty to state that demons could not harm sorcerers, and anyway Len hadn't been the one actually inflicting hurt on the man. Besides, Len was bored of serving this person, because all he wanted was someone to threaten and blackmail and steal on his behalf – basically, he wanted someone to be everything he was not, and Len was tired of doing that. So while the man screamed for help, Len simply went off somewhere else, pretending that nothing was happening and that his master was still safe at home – then he took the soul and went back to Hell, and that was the end of the whole episode. Len feared a repeat of such servitude.

But Miku obviously had backbone, and he doubted she would hide behind the scenes while he worked for her – no, this girl obviously wanted a part of her own to play while orchestrating her revenge. _Let her be the conductor, while I am the players of the band. _It would be a pleasant change from doing all the work for once, and always being the one subtly controlling his master. Len liked control over his puppets, but he had to admit that total control could be boring after a while. Secretly, he was rather fond of the defiance she displayed, and rather hoped this master would stay alive for longer than his previous ones. How long she lived depended on how entertaining she was to him.

Miku was trying to control her rising temper. The demon was getting on her nerves. He talked to her as though she was a child, simple-minded and unable to comprehend the world around her. Did he think that, just because she was a tiny fraction of his age, she knew absolutely nothing about deceiving and concealment? She was a _witch, _the only magical race with so few male counterparts that they had to learn how to live like a human just to breed and survive – disguising and hiding were things she had learnt since she was a child. Her mother was lucky to marry a sorcerer, but Miku doubted she would have the fortune to do so…especially since all the Carpia sorcerers were dead.

She didn't think she could even live to marry. Once Abaddon – no, _Len _– was done, he would take her soul and she would die, and the Carpia clan would truly be extinct. But they would not depart without revenge. If they had to die out, they would die out in flames, and they would take down their enemies with them. She would ensure that, and now she just had to keep reminding herself that this demon was there to help her with this goal. Sometimes, she forgot that Len was here to help her, and she kept wishing she could go over to him and throttle his neck for treating her like some sort of simpleton.

"Mind games…? I would never," he sounded so offended that she almost believed him for a second. _But like what Meiko said, demons are natural born liars. _"Why would I want to play mind games with you, Miku? You are my _mistress. _I am here to serve you, and please you, and fulfil your deepest, darkest desire. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you in any way, and especially not with something so trivial as _mind games,_" he stressed the word, and she could imagine the sneer forming on his face. It irritated her that, even with such mocking expressions, his face could still be so handsome and flawless.

"That's what you say. But I don't trust you, which you know all too well," she stepped out of the parlour, her lantern swinging next to her. She tightened her grip around the handle, trying to stop her fingers from trembling. _Fingers…_she thought back to his long, elegant fingers – she couldn't help but think that, every time light fell on them and shadows were cast over his skin…his fingers would look so skeletal, like no skin covered them. Like a demonic apparition…yet, when he spoke to her and startled her, when she took another look at his hands they looked perfectly normal to her. She didn't know why she kept seeing his fingers as skeletal, and she didn't want to mention this anomaly.

"Wait," he called out, and unwillingly she stopped – his voice still had that alluring, velvet quality that made you want to stop and _listen. _His voice had been like this while he told his story to Meiko and Kaito, and he was using that same method of _storytelling _to get her to listen to him. "Miku, you know, if you really want me to help you, one way you could get me to tell you the truth is by being nicer to me," she turned around, her expression incredulous – Len simply shot her a lazy grin from where he was lying under the blankets. "You know, be a little more subservient. I'm a Greater Demon," he told her softly, a conspiratorial light in his blue eyes. "I'm used to being served. If you're nice to me, I might actually do my best to help you get to the root of your…little problem."

She just gaped at him for a while, before she finally came to her senses, still being faced with that same annoying, self-centred smug grin. "Go to Hell," she spat, backing away from him. _Subservient…? Me? I'd never do anything like that. He is meant to be my servant, so why should I have to serve him? _At her curse, he just let out a laugh, and she realised belatedly what she had said and whom exactly she had said it to.

"Oh, sweet Miku. Hell is my home, and I do wish I could go back there," he quietened, his laughter subsiding, and again he was studying her, those blue eyes seeming to penetrate her physical shell to stare at the soul hiding underneath. She found herself taking a step back at his scrutiny, feeling the force of his stare like it was an actual push, making her stumble backwards until she was far out of range. Len tilted his head, then turned away from her, lying back down on the couch. "Have a good night, Miku," he whispered.

She didn't quite know how to respond to that, so she murmured a hasty 'good night' and finally left the parlour, the lantern still carefully in her grip so that she could see clearly in front her. Her mind was racing with thoughts about the demon, and she wished she could trust him, because he was the only one who could help her at the moment – but she knew that she could never, ever trust him. Who could trust someone from Hell, where all the creatures were born to lie and solely lie? He was a demon borne of Lies and Mischief, and to trust him would be to stab herself in the back with a rusty dagger.

The light cast by the lantern spilled out onto the walls, her shadow dancing and laughing with her as she climbed up the stairs back to her room. Sudden exhaustion overtook her, and she found herself wishing that when she woke up tomorrow, all this – Abaddon and Carpia and Silverton and the flag – would be nothing but a horrible dream.


End file.
